


how i pine

by littlecreature



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Short, a small wistful corin, i guess ???, idk i just love this silly little vampire a lot, she just misses her home okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlecreature/pseuds/littlecreature
Summary: she had never been much of a vestal virgin, anyway.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	how i pine

**Author's Note:**

> corin goes back to rome, she doesn’t like what she finds. 
> 
> a short little piece on our favourite guard member.

It’s rare, for any of your kind to travel during the day. You keep to the shadows, crossing borders by foot — deep diving under the waves to breach new continents. 

You don’t need to go that far. You could walk, but Rome’s only a 3 hour train journey away. You know how to dress. Long sleeves, a long skirt, a head covering, light gloves. You had decided long ago that you didn’t want to see it by night. Your blurry human memories are that of staring out of a window at night. You don’t remember the sunshine, or the heat. 

Not that you can feel the heat now, which makes the clothing more bearable. You had sworn to Aro a million times over that you would be careful. And you are. 

On the train, you sit with headphones in, playing all the music that Heidi and Chelsea had recommended to you. You force down some food halfway through the journey, sipping from a dark coloured bottle. You show your train tickets dutifully, a vague smile touching your lips as the conductor marvels at the small town you’ve come from. Then they notice that your eyes are that nice purple colour — you say nothing about how the contacts irritate your eyes something chronic. Instead, you turn your phone to show some carefully crafted pictures of you, Jane and Alec. It’s all in the family, you say. 

Rome terrifies you. Even when you were human, it was never this busy. The humans swarm like locusts, snapping pictures, slurping on gelato as if it would be their last meal. You do throw a penny into the fountain, however. The desire to come back will still be there when you leave. 

You pass by Vatican City. You are religionless now — though you did try to hang on to it for a century or so, and Aro has had a dealing or two in there — it feels like work. You aren’t here to do that. You just want to try and dig up some memories. 

You fail. Because nothing is the same, you come to Palatine Hill and nearly have to turn away because the atrium is gone — no fire burns for the health of the city anymore. Everything you knew is either gone, or in shoddy ruins that do nothing to jog your memory. 

You wouldn’t even know where to look to try and find the house you spent your first six years in. It stood, most likely, where a shop stands now. 

Tears are hard to come by for your kind — so you duck into the nearest tourist shop; snatching up a rosary out of some vague need to have something to remember the city by. A rosary simply because you find fridge magnets to be far too mortal. 

The train ride home is uneventful, and you hide under a blanket, feigning sleep. Perhaps it had been unwise to venture home, down memory lane. It did not fill the ever expanding hole in your heart — merely covered it with a sheet that would soon be tossed off in a fit of bitter apathy that nobody else seems to indulge in. 

Heidi retrieves you from the train station, her own purple contacts shimmering in the evening sun. Her skin, much like yours, covered despite the lack of crowds. Her smile reminds you of why you like her so. 

“Good day?” 

“Long.”


End file.
